Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Hektir spits. He has little else to say aloud.

Women. Can't live with them...can't quite make this sword right, can I?

Well fed and mostly cleaned up, Tsin finds Solveig to discuss matters further.

"How fares the Iron Guard? Have they managed to lure away the Winter Guard successfully? Did they sustain any heavy casualties?" She continues to practice the local tongue, succeeding at least to convey her meaning.

"As for the Market Square, wherein lies the Hut, can you give us a detailed map of what it looked like, prior to the overgrowth? It will be everything we can do not to get lost once we're inside the forest. To be familiar with landmarks will be a help." Tsin waits patiently to retrieve any information.

Hektir listens to any answers to Tsin's shrill questions, hoping for good news.

"Not sure we will have time to turn our coin into useful items for our trip through the park," Hektir muses.

"It's unlikely Solveig has sent the whole church's contingent off to fight with the Iron Guard. Perhaps she's willing to send runners to negotiate with local merchants?" Tsin turns back to Solveig, wondering if she's able to do so.

You wake up refreshed in the morning, Solveig greeting you with a grim smile.

"The plan worked, I'm both happy and sad to say. The city is in chaos, but even more are suffering than usual. Hopefully you can take advantage and bring about something good for the people of Whitethrone.

"I was able to sell the items and acquire the other supplies you asked for," she continues, handing you a purse full of coins, a wand of CLW and three vials of alchemist's fire you never said exactly how much you want, but you can have up to six if you'd like.

Once you're ready, she gives you instructions to the city's Market Square, where the Dancing Hut was chained. Exiting the shrine, you see plumes of smoke rising up through the chill air from various points in the city, testament to the battles taking place between the Winter and Iron Guards.

As you approach the area surrounding Whitethrone’s Market Square, you find it overgrown with a thick forest. The streets around the square are a wreckage of stumps and fallen trees, and many of the traders residing in the Merchants’ Quarter are nowhere to be found. The Market Square itself has almost entirely vanished save for a few buildings that are now completely out of place in this sylvan landscape.

The shops and homes of the Merchants’ Quarter stop abruptly at a towering wall of evergreens that has burst through the snow-covered cobblestones of the city’s streets. Ahead, the trees part to form a path winding into the dark forest that has replaced all sights and senses of the city around it.

Three large ice trolls stand sentry in front of the path.

Map is up; they're 10-foot squares, so I'll be trying to remember to do it as a closeup map, but I also left up a link for an overall map of the area.

On the way in, Hektir will cast a few spells: Barkskin (1 hour), Resinous Skin (1 hour), Resist Energy (cold, 1 hour), Endure Elements (24 hours).

He will also test his mettle (again) against the plants and trees that make up the walls of the path. Same problems moving in and through as before?

* * *

Hektir spits, looking at the trolls, before the team moves into combat.

"Anyone have any good ideas before we go in there?" Hektir whispers.

As the group wends its way through Whitethrone toward the strangely wooded square, Malavarius remarks, "Quite a mess they've made of this city. Blasted witches, aren't even taking care of their subjects!"

---

"Oh, I can think of one, my boy." Malavarius offers Hektir a playful wink before starting things off with something of a bang.

Scroll of Fireball (fire): 5d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 2, 2, 2) = 10 Ref Save DC 16 for 1/2 damage

As the smoke clears and the words wisp away from the scroll in his hands, Malavarius frowns deeply. "That wasn't at all what I was hoping for! Zeno? Zeno! Who sold us this worthless piece of parchment, hmmm? We ought to run the snake out of business for providing such shoddy merchandise."
"You wrote that yourself, you old bearded fool!"
"I what? Well!" His voice takes a more sheepish tone as he huffs and hedges, "It was a new spell at the time, you know. I'm sure the next one will be better."

"Burn them real good Tsin!" Quinn places a hand over Tsin's and the warmth of fire rushes through her blade.

cast Sun Metal on Tsin's blade, lasts 6 rounds

As Mal reads the scroll, Hektir snarls at the large trolls and their 'largeness'. He spits and steps forward, beating his chest and issuing a challenge that matches the roar of Mal's fireball.

He puts his arms down as his body changes, extends, grows. Those arms, so strong before, grow hair and look perfect to brachiate through the trees, his wrists becoming ball and socket joints. His chest expands to support his massive head and be-furred legs. A long streak of silver fur grows up and down his back.

ApeTir knuckle walks to the front of the party, his furry face squinting at the trolls. He turns back to Tsin and nods, ready to charge into battle.

The woods indeed resist any attempt to enter them, Hektir.

Mal opens hostilities with a bang, catching the rear two trolls with a full blast of fire, though the one in front avoids the worst of it.

Hektir transforms as Quinn casts his spell on Tsin's blade again, causing it to glow dangerously.

Hektir up in round 1/2; remember they're 10-foot squares

Round 1, Init 20

Apetir is LARGE.

Apetir bellows and charges the lead troll. Apetir moves up 25', 5' away from lead troll. Apetir bites at the troll, using the crests that anchor his powerful temporalis muscles, which attach to the lower jaw (mandible), to bite at the troll.

1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 11 + 2 = 14 to hit;
1d6 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15 damage.

Round 1, Init 19+

Tsin charges the lead troll as well, flicking her secondary hand at it, imposing a languor so she may close the distance without repercussion. Cast Litany of Sloth, swift action

+1 Falchion: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 11 + 2 = 33 for 2d4 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (3, 3) + 7 + (2) = 15 damage 2 of the total being fire damage

Confirm Critical?: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 11 + 2 = 26 for 2d4 + 7 ⇒ (1, 2) + 7 = 10 damage

Pems sighs at simiian "diplomacy" and then gives Mal a hard look. "Wait. Aren't you the one who was complaining about us "young'uns" not taking proper time to diplomatically dicuss our issues?"

He turns his hard look on the nearest troll and gives it an EVIL EYE! Will Save DC 15! Failure means -2 AC for 6 rounds; success means -2 AC for 1 round!

Hold on Tsin. It gets to go first. I'll try to update ASAP but I'm at work now.

Sorry! Snuck a peek at inits, and caught the tie :)

Hektir bites the troll, but his teeth don't penetrate its tough skin, and it roars in glorious challenge before sinking its battleaxe into Ape-tir 14 hp, though it has similarly poor luck penetrating its hairier-than-usual flesh with its claws and teeth.

Its two companions step up, both swinging their axes, one of which manages to draw blood 6 hp.

OK, now the rest of you are up. Tsin, you can keep your roll if you want.

Round 1, Init 19

Much obliged, Mott :)

Tsin flicks her glance sideways, slightly bemused that Hektir would choose his current hairy state. I wonder if he just changes based on the first thing that comes to mind, or if he chose 'ape' on purpose...

Still trying to avoid AoO, so Litany of Sloth is still administered to the troll directly in front of her.

Tsin runs alongside the simian mountainside, before attacking the same troll that Apetir targetted. How in the hells does his changing shape have anything to do with his smell changing like that?

Previous Critical confirmed- 23 points slashing damage, 2 points fire damage. For those who don't math good, that's 25 total.

Round 2, Init 20

Apetir bellows as the trolls fight back. Apetir reacts by going a~*&@~# on the troll in front of him.

Bite:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (2) + 11 = 13 to hit;
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 damage.

Claw:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30 to hit;
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

Claw2:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19 to hit;
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

OOOH...I think both those claws hit. If so...rend. Auto damage:
1d4 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13 rend damage.

Apetir grabs the troll and tears him apart.

Staying behind his shield, Quinn calls for a blessing upon his allies. "Cayden, see fit to grant these courageous imbibers your strength!"

cast Bless on the party

Malavarius, still frowning over the disappointingly small fireball, tugs on his beard in frustration before leaning on an older, more trustworthy spell. After a few moments, a familiar, shrieking likeness of Zeno zips across the snowy path and crashes into the face of one of the trolls with a dazzling flash and bang.

Snapdragon Fireworks (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 4 + dazzled for 1 minute; Reflex Save DC 18 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Tsin's spell makes one of the troll's pause and she ducks under the other's axe as she rushes in, blade sizzling as it hits the troll. Hektir takes advantage of its cry of pain and rips into it, gorilla paws making short work as he rends it apart.

Behind them, their spellcasters get to work, Quinn calling down Cayden's blessing on the group while Mal's fiery Zeno crashes into the troll closest to Tsin, though it manages to cover its eyes to avoid the worse of it. Pem's baleful glare seems to have no effect on the creature.

Stunned by the sudden death of their companion, they trade glances and then turn their attention to Hektir, both ignoring the smaller Tsin for what they see as a greater threat.

"You'll die for that, beast," one says, the other adding, "And then we'll make a nice soup out o' you!"

Their bluster is much worse than their weapons, however, as neither is able to penetrate the ape's tough hide, when they even make contact at all. Wow...

Pems groans, then gives the other troll his Evillest of Eyes! -2 AC!

Round 2, Init 19

Tsin watches as the trolls' arms whisk above her head, targetting the Ape. She sets her jaw, and tries to soften up another for Hektir to rip apart again.

+1 Falchion, Power Attack, Bless: 1d20 + 11 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 11 - 2 + 1 = 19 for 2d4 + 7 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (1, 2) + 7 + 6 + (5) = 21 damage 5 of it Fire Damage

"This one, Hektir!! The one on fire!! Do you understand??"

Malavarius sends another firework into the other troll as he pumps one arm in the air victoriously as Hektir avoids the trolls' attacks. "Well done, lad! Duck and weave! Just like that, my boy! Ha ha!"

Snapdragon Fireworks (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 3 + dazzled for 1 minute; Reflex Save DC 18 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Tsin watches Mal's fireworks with a clinical eye. "Why did your first firework not retain Zeno's form, Mal? Did you need to warm up?"

Malavarius shoots Tsin a grumpy look, though his retort is a jumbled mumble of words that gets lost in his beard. He makes a pointed attempt to focus his gaze upon the troll he just sent his spell toward, but he hazards several obvious glances toward the butcher's apprentice, each with an accompanying grumble and frown.

Round 3, Init 20

Apetir bites at the left troll, flails with his claws at the right troll.

Bite: 1d20 + 11 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 11 + 1 = 13 to hit; (bless)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 damage.

Claw: 1d20 + 11 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 11 + 1 = 20 to hit; (bless)
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11 damage.

Claw: 1d20 + 11 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 11 + 1 = 20 to hit; (bless)
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

Potential rend if both claws hit:
1d4 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14 auto damage.

Quinn draws his spindly rapier, then watches as Apetir and Tsin slaughter another giant troll, then looks back to his spindly weapon and maintains a defensive posture while inching forward slowly. "That's it, get 'em!"

draw weapon and shift forward

Ah, crappity crap. Ignore the rend damage. Apetir won't have that for another few levels. I re-checked his stuff and realized my mistake. Apologies.

Boy, I sure feel like a big dumb gorilla right now. /me types ape-ishly :(

Glad your position evolved, Hektir. Wasn't sure that was possible.

Huh. I would've pegged Quinn as the cheater, not you, Hektir. :)

The troll pays for ignoring Tsin, as her blade cleaves into it, and leaves it open for Hektir to finish off.

The other troll seems poised to lay into Hektir, but Mal's fireworks explodes in its face and it simply lashes out wildly, the ape easily able to avoid its attacks. I don't know why I bother. I've yet to get into double figures on my attack rolls...

Round 3, Init 19

Emboldened by their success, Tsin engages the last troll without regard to opportunistic swipes. She waves for the ape's attention, just to be sure.

+1 Falchion, Bless, Power Attack: 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (18) + 11 + 1 - 2 = 28 for 2d4 + 7 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 7 + 6 + (3) = 21 damage, 3 of which is fire damage

Confirm Critical?: 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 11 + 1 - 2 = 22 for 2d4 + 7 + 6 ⇒ (3, 1) + 7 + 6 = 17 damage

"Eh-La!!" A sound of satisfaction, as her blade gouges deeply.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

The troll takes another futile swipe at Tsin Really? again?, before she beheads the massive humanoid with a single swipe of her falchion.

Fight over, thanks to Hektir's cheating and dicebot's lousy rolls.

Malavarius sends the last 3 of his little sparking Zenos into each of the troll corpses to ensure they stay down. "Well, that was invigorating! I am quite tired of trolls though, I'll have you know. Nasty brutes. Almost as smelly as Hektir and half as bright." A shudder ripples through his shoulders as he considers all their past encounters with trolls. He banishes the images with a 'harumpf' before starting forward through the sudden wood again, his feet and staff crunching in the snow. After a few steps he stops, removes his hat (upsetting Zeno's perch in the process), and scratches his head. "I say, where is it we're even going again? And where did this forest come from? People don't grow forests in their towns these days do they? How odd."

Pems stares up at the trees. "This place has an odd feel to it. It feels... off, like it's not part of this world."

So sorry for the cheating...I learned it from watching Quinn. You know, monkey-see, monkey-do. I don't know how you put up with us, Motte. It must be driving you bananas.

I know that you forgive me, Tsin. After all, you know that I'm your prime-mate.

Apetir beats his chest and roars as the trolls fall. Feeling manly apish, Apetir moves the troll bodies off to the side of path while looking for things of interest.

He sits picking nits examining his injuries while he waits to move on.

HP 43/63. Apetir can't talk, needs healing and damsels.

Tsin looks at Mal and Pems as they connect with the environs. "Strange, but I'm starting to grow inured to the presence of trolls and their fey kith. We should..." she pauses, as her blade loses Quinn's grace. "...keep going. Press our advantage. These trolls were stationed like cows across our path. There is a path there, see? Can't say for sure if it's the inviting kind, but we have no choice, seeing as how the trees seem to swarm." Tsin looks at the transformed Hektir.

"Perhaps he has a choice, heading upwards instead of forwards. Hektir? Hektir! Can you climb? Huh. I can't tell if he's playing the mute, or truly slips into the essence of 'Ape'. What do you think? For his magics, does he become purely the thing? Surely not, because he fought only those that opposed us. Unless there is the chance that he could mistake us all the same."

Tsin continues down the path, ears open, eyes peeled, like a...

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

My, Dicebot, you are quite the flirt... I like how you roll...

Pems reaches forward and lays a hand on Ape-tir, channeling his healing hex. Healing!: 2d8 + 5 ⇒ (6, 7) + 5 = 18

Thanks Pems!

Apetir reaches for an annoying nit...but stops when he realizes it is just Pems and his healing.

With a wide ape's smile, Apetir grins back, strutting back and forth. He looks from tree to tree, examining...having already failed to cross them twice.

He tries climbing a sturdy tree, using his apish arms to brachiate from limb to limb like Quinn moves from keg to keg. 30' Climb Speed.

Pems gives a wan smile as he sees the size of Ape-tir's teeth, then lets out a breath as Ape-tir climbs to the top of the trees.

"That man is a little too in touch with his inner ape for our good." He mutters.

"How long has he remained in those animal forms, roughly? Do you think it gets harder for him to switch back each time he transforms? It would explain quite a lot..."

Malavarius' eyebrows knit together into one bushy line of confusion across his wrinkled brow as he considers Tsin's question, "Hektir's in an animal form you say? What's this? Gadzooks! I hadn't even noticed!" He shakes his head the way that old men do as he laments to Zeno, "You know, Zeno, that certainly helps explain the smell. I wonder how long Hektir's been able to disguise himself as a human. Perhaps it's a type of backward lycanthropy? What do you think, Zeno?"
Zeno sighs in exasperation and flits over to Quinn's shoulder for refuge once more, not bothering to incite Malavarius' theories any further with a response.
"Oh well fine, flap away then, you grumpy goose!" He starts to continue, then scratches his head again, "I say, is that Hektir? Has he always been a monkey?"

Tsin snorts when she considers the alternative creature concept Mal puts forth. "Backward lycan... I don't even know where to begin with that, that's quite perfect."

Thorns cover the underbrush, preventing Ape-Tir from finding any purchase. Even if he could, the trees’ canopies have grown together to form a living dome over the area, which means he wouldn't be able to get anywhere, even if he could climb.

You follow the seeming path in and it soon splits into three. To the west, you see a pool of water. Perhaps more alarming, to the northeast, you see what appears to be a house perched precariously 20 feet high in the boughs of a tree.

Overall map updated

"What manner of fool path is this, spliting and wandering off in different direction with no signs to guide troubled travlers? Have wooded paths really come to this now as to be unmarked and untended? These are dark days we're in. Dark days." Malavarius frowns as he considers the three-fold choice before them.

Apetir sniffs and looks at the trails splitting, thinking about which way is most used.

1d20 + 14 ⇒ (13) + 14 = 27 Survival

Any cool tracks? Wear and tear?

There are various tracks, but nothing you can make out as far as most used -- until recently, this was a well-trod area, being the main square of the city.

Tsin stays within 30' of Hektir, and moves towards the treehouse. Noting its precarious positioning, she looks as closely as she can for signs of life or otherwise.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18

"That doesn't look good. And it's twice as high as Hektir. Likely that it was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when the forest came alive?"

Quinn eyes the area suspiciously, sure that witches must be lurking nearby.

Perception plus Quinn's cheating bonus: 1d20 + 13 + 100 ⇒ (16) + 13 + 100 = 129

"Look, there, the Queen of Witches!...no, no, just a tree trunk, false alarm, sorry, sorry folks."

does the house look like it was built into the tree, or like it was lifted by the tree growing beneath it?

pre·car·i·ous
prəˈkerēəs/
adjective
1. not securely held or in position; dangerously likely to fall or collapse.
"a precarious ladder"

2. dependent on chance; uncertain.
"she made a precarious living by writing"
synonyms: uncertain, insecure, unpredictable, risky, parlous, hazardous, dangerous, unsafe

You're welcome, Quinn ;)